RusAme Playlist Drabbles
by Mizuni-no-neko
Summary: Various Drabbles set to my music player on shuffle. Mostly showtunes. But cool showtunes like Repo and RENT and stuff. M to be safe, nothing really bad.


1. Johnny Cash - Hurt

Russia stared at the cut along his wrist as it healed up. It was fascinating, actually. So many times he'd been injured, skin splitting under the pressure of a knife or the impact of a bullet. But never did he stay hurt for long. The only wounds that ever stayed were those caused by another nation.

But still he tried. He tried so hard to make himself hurt like he made the others hurt. That was the point of communism, yes? To share everything, even the pain. That's what America called him, a communist. He wasn't, but America couldn't see that. But no matter how many times he tried he couldn't hurt himself. Even the gravest of wounds would heal up before they even had time to bleed properly.

And it wasn't fair, why should he be denied the one thing he wanted? He just wanted to be sure he was still alive and this wasn't just a dream. A dream where the one he loved most hated him and he could never die.

2. Infected – Repo! A genetic opera

America had never asked to be a country. He had never wished this upon himself as a child. But every time he's expressed a desire to be anything, god forbid to be normal, Arthur would lecture him on his responsibilities and what would happen if he were ever to disappear the way he wanted. Arthur just didn't understand.

But Russia did. When they were tangled up in the sheets in a grungy hotel room he wasn't just a product of his birth, a country who could never be a truly normal human. When they were alone together they could just be Alfred and Ivan, two lovers who didn't want to let the world in.

And maybe someday they would be able to realize their dream and be what they pretended. To go outside under the sun as two normal men with no responsibilities or immortality hanging over their heads.

3. Little Fall of Rain – Les Miserables

The rain was falling just like it had that day, it was fitting. It had been five years since Alfred had come to him, five years since he'd held him in his arms and...Ivan stood over the headstone, reading the name over and over.

Five years...the sunflowers in his hand slid, falling on the grass that had long since grown over the grave. Five years since Alfred had come to him, muggers having attacked him as he was walking through the streets. Attacked him for no better reason than their love. He had watched the light slip out of his lover's eyes, the perpetual smile frozen on his still warm face as it stilled in death, the words "I love you" slipping past with the last dying breath.

Five years without his precious sunflower, it wasn't worth it. He was only waiting for the rain to take him, too. Maybe it would make the sunflowers he left take root and grow. That would be nice.

4. Seasons of Love - Rent

When Alfred turned to him, eyes shining and smile as bright as a thousand watt bulb, Ivan couldn't help but smile back. It was beautiful, breathtaking. He couldn't believe that something as wonderful of this was his.

He counted the days, waiting for this small ball of sunshine on earth to leave him cold and alone like he had been in the years leading up to their meeting and romance. But he never did. Not after 4,716 coffee dates, 378 dinner dates, 589 movies, and 983 times making love. A year. 525,600 minutes and Alfred was not gone yet.

He could only hope that it would continue on like this for many years to come, life and love measured by the beautiful smiles that he would send his way whenever the younger man so much as felt like it.

Ivan was truly blessed, yes, and he would continue to count the minutes that they've been together in all the things that mattered.

5. I've just seen a face – Across the Universe

Alfred didn't know what had happened. He's been out bowing with his friends and his brother and all of a sudden he caught sight of someone across the room.

A tall man, silver hair falling into his hair. His nose was a bit on the big side, but that just made him want to kiss the tip of it. He was infatuated instantly, heart beating a mile a minute and standing frozen, bowling ball poised in his hand.

The man had turned to him, letting him see his intriguing violet eyes and Alfred was sure. He was in love.

6. Bring Him Home – Les Miserables

Ivan wasn't sure how long Alfred had been gone. Weeks? Months? The days melted into one another without him there to make them special. But he did know that it had been much too long. He just wanted him to come home safe and sound and in one piece.

He would plead with a God he wasn't sure he believed in anymore to bring his love home to him. But everyday came and passed without word from his lover. Who knows what was happening to him there on the battlefield? He was much too young to be in those situations, merely a boy trying to be a man.

He would give anything if he could just switch places with him. Please, God, just let him come home safely. Bring him home, safe and sound. Ivan needed him now more than ever.

7. For Good - Wicked

Alfred smiled at the man sleeping soundly beside him, pale lashes brushing paler cheeks and violet eyes hidden from the world. He was truly beautiful in every way the American could think of. Everything about the man made him fall further and further in love with him.

When they had first met Alfred had been nothing, some junkie sleeping on the streets. Ivan had taken him in, gotten him clean, and shown him how to love again. His whole life up until he met Ivan was shit, he'd done nothing good with his life.

And here he was now. With a steady job at a law firm, a nice apartment in a good part of the city, and the most amazing boyfriend in the world. And it was all because of the man sleeping peacefully next to him.

He kissed his temple and pulled back just in time to see the Russian man stir and violet eyes open, a smile on his lips.

"Good morning, beautiful." He said, kissing the lips he'd never get enough of. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Why?" Ivan asked.

"For changing me."

8. Defying Gravity - Wicked

He'd done it. He'd finally reached his greatest dream. He felt light, giddy, ecstatic. He didn't care that Russia had been to space first, that wasn't the point. He'd never wanted to be the first. He couldn't give two shits who was the first.

Here he was in space, _space_ of all places. And not just space, the moon. There was no cheese here, no little green men, it wasn't really the head of some celestial being with a face. But it was beautiful nonetheless.

And he was the first here. Not that that mattered, either. He was here and first, second, last, none of it mattered. He looked out over the barren landscape and his flag standing proud on the rocky surface like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And it was, so beautiful. He could feel tears coursing down his cheeks, burning like the feeling in his heart he just couldn't place.

But he wanted him to be here. Throughout everything the only person he wanted by his side to see this was Russia. And one day, one day he would be. It was there and then that he vowed that one day he would stand here, right in this spot, holding Russia's hand and defying gravity together.

9. Without You - Rent

The Cold War...yeah, that was a good description of it. Because all America could feel was cold. He didn't know exactly what had gone wrong, but somewhere along the lines he and Russia had went from friends, to something more, to mortal enemies who couldn't be in the same room without shouting. But after, oh god after everyone was gone and he was alone.

All it was was cold. Inside and out he was frozen. Without Russia there to hold him his bed felt like an icebox, his soul felt like liquid nitrogen without his love to warm it. Nothing was the same, colors were dull and pain and pleasure meant nothing.

He would stare out of the window for hours, watching children play. But it was like he was in another world. His heart beat, his tears were shed, he went on with his work, but he wasn't really there. He hated every breath that he drew and every step he took.

Without Russia life went on, he didn't die. But Lord, did he want to. Without him life just wasn't worth it.

10. Hey Jude – The Beatles.

America had run off again, leaving Russia to drown his misery in the bottom of a bottle of vodka. It was always like this. They would disagree, the disagreement would turn into an argument, they would start shouting, America would run out crying, Russia would get drunk, Alfred would come home and look at him like he was disgusted with him, they would argue more, they would fall into bed and have rough, angry, drunken (on Russia's part) sex.

But just as he brought the bottle up to his lips to take a sip, he caught his own eyes in the mirror. Those eyes...they couldn't be his. They were hollow and hopeless, like he would always be doing exactly as he was doing now. And that might have flown in the time before, but in the last few years he'd become accustomed to the spark of life America brought into his life. The spark he was now taking out.

No...that spark Russia was allowing to die.

He stared himself down in the mirror for awhile, the part of him that wanted to stay and forget all of his troubles slowly loosing to the part of him that wanted to take charge and change everything. He stood up, tossing the almost full bottle into the trash and ran off after his lover.

He caught up with him easily enough, finding the other man crying on a park bend a few blocks fro their apartment. He sat down next to him. "I'm sorry." He said.

The blonde looked up, stunned. "You came after me." He said, voice a breathless whisper, as if he could hardly believe it. That stung a bit, but he deserved it.

"Yes, yes I did. You do these things for those you love." America beamed at him like he hadn't in months, like he was the only person in the world, and kissed him soft and sweet on the lips.

"I have something else you do for those you love, race me back to the apartment?" Russia chuckled and pulled the boy to him.

"I have a better idea, let's go together." He took the other nation's hand and led him home to their apartment, and their bedroom.

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

Lol omg the last song is sooo fucking long. Anyone else but me notice that the only two that weren't from musicals were the first and last and those were vintage? That oughta tell you something about my music tastes xDDD

Good lord I still had a bit of time left on Hey Jude. If I'd written nonstop without pausing through the whole fic it would have been the size of one of my normal oneshots xDD It's horrible. Love the song to death, though.


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